The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Brendon suggests supper at the Carlton. “You are absurd,” she declared. ’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. Her anger died and she eyed him. “I want you so much, Lucy. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Ennison, or any other young man.
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